


Mother

by ABirdInFlight



Series: Tangled Drabbles [1]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mentions of kidnapping, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABirdInFlight/pseuds/ABirdInFlight
Summary: Adjusting to palace life is hard. Especially when your mother is the Queen. Especially when you still can't even call her "mother."
Relationships: Queen Arianna of Corona & Rapunzel (Disney)
Series: Tangled Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646344
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66





	Mother

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of drabbles transferred over here from my Rapunzel roleplay blog. Works in this series will all be one-shots and won't be expanded, and will likely be centered around Rapunzel's relationship with a specific character. This first one was part of a prompt from Arianna appreciation month, because frankly, Arianna needs some more love. Hope you enjoy!

Being back in the castle felt like a dream. Not just in the sense that it was amazing- which it was!- but in the sense that it _really_ felt like a dream. Like none of it was even real. Every now and then Rapunzel would turn her head and nearly topple over, expecting the weight of hair that no longer existed to move with her. Or she’d turn a corner and see a shadowy figure- and wince- only to find it was just one of the guards. For weeks she’d wandered the corridors on her own, trying to figure out this strange new home- and how to _make_ it home.

Right now, it just _wasn’t_. Rapunzel lay flat on her back, staring up at the bright canopy of her enormous bed. She shifted her gaze to the walls- unpainted and bare. She looked next to the vanity, to the delicate little figurines of horses and princesses and knights that lined it. There was even a small stuffed pony, one of it’s white ears clearly having been chewed on at one point. Then she turned her head to see the bright white armoire- and were she to open it, she’d see the tiny little outfits that had once been meant for her. On the other side of it was a portrait hanging over the fireplace- stern and austere, it was a painting of the infant Rapunzel and her parents. Two people who were effectively strangers to her, and whom the portraits still captured not at all. 

At one time, Rapunzel knew this room had been meant to be her nursery. Instead it had become like something of a shrine- the portrait, the decorations, all of it had been unchanged until very recently. The armoire now housed dresses meant for a young adult alongside the baby clothes. Rapunzel hadn’t yet asked for them to be taken somewhere else- it didn’t seem right. And instead of the crib that had been there the night of her arrival, there was now this too-big bed. _That_ had needed to be changed. Rapunzel was definitely too big for a crib. 

But as much this room was hers, it wasn’t _hers._ Rapunzel rolled over, only to come face to face with her oldest friend. Pascal the chameleon gave her a long, knowing stare. Rapunzel sighed and propped herself up on her elbow. 

“Well, what do you think we should do, Pascal?” she challenged him. “I can’t just ask them if I can paint on the walls. This is a _castle,_ not an empty tower. There’s…rules here.” Besides, her dad was kind of intimidating.   


Pascal clearly wasn’t swayed. He gestured towards the room and made a gagging motion. Rapunzel sat up, rolling her eyes. 

“I _know_ , I know it’s…not really us,” she said, staring back at the perfectly pristine white furniture. The vanity really was the worst offender- bright white with gold plating, and all those creepy little figures staring at her. The stuffed horse was fine, she guessed, but it wasn’t the same as Millie, the little rag doll she’d left back in the tower. She’d never even _thought_ to bring Millie, who’d been long ago forgotten on the top of Rapunzel’s old bookshelf. She’d been a birthday gift from- well. Not that it mattered anymore.  


Pascal chirped at her, jumping up to sit on Rapunzel’s shoulder. She stood up and crossed the room, picking the pony up off the table. She ran her finger over the chewed up ear, trying to imagine herself having once shoved it into her mouth. “I guess I must have done that,” she said, glancing at Pascal with a small smile. “I mean, I don’t think mo- my… _she_ did that.”

Pascal frowned at her. Rapunzel sighed.

“I _know_ , Pascal, but…it’s still weird,” Rapunzel said, setting the pony back down. “It’s like I have this whole other life now, and…I don’t actually fit in it. This room…this place…and _them_ ,” she nodded towards the portrait. “How am I going to do this?”

Pascal crawled down Rapunzel’s arm, coming to rest in the palm of her hand. He said nothing- he never really did- but he did lift one of this little feet and press it onto her thumb. And then he straightened his tail and mimicked the motion of a paint brush. Rapunzel smiled despite herself.

“You’re right. I definitely can’t be myself if I can’t paint,” she said. She looked back at the portrait, considering it. She didn’t think her dad would be much for painting, but…Rapunzel’s eyes lingered on the Queen.   


“I guess we’ve gotta start somewhere, right?”

* * *

The next day, Rapunzel approached the woman who-was-her-mother-she-supposed after breakfast. She let just enough time pass so that it didn’t seem too weird, before sneaking up the stairs to the massive drawing room where she knew the Queen spent most of her time. 

Pascal gave Rapunzel a look, as if to ask ‘why all the secrecy?’ But Rapunzel only put a finger to her lips and whispered “I don’t want the guards to see, that’s all.” She crept alongside the wall, pausing at the door to listen in. She couldn’t really hear anything much, except the occasional flip of a page. 

“She’s reading, do you think we should interrupt? Maybe she wouldn’t like it…” Rapunzel pressed her thumb to her mouth, biting down on the nail. A new habit, now that it was harder to tug on her hair. Pascal gave her another look, before nudging her with his claws.   


“Yeah, okay okay,” she said, stepping around the corner. Now standing in the doorway, she could see Queen Arianna seated on the sofa, perfectly upright, reading a book. Arianna looked up, a genuine look of surprise on her face, and then she smiled.  


“Oh! Rapunzel, I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, setting the book down. Rapunzel gave a small wave, trying hard to keep a genuine smile on her own face instead of a nervous grimace.   


“Hi, um…hi,” she said, faltering slightly. “I was just…walking by…thought I’d pop in.” She punctuated her sentence with a small laugh, shuffling her feet. The smile on Arianna’s face fell a little, and Rapunzel knew why all too well.   


“Actually…” she continued on, “I was um…I was wondering…about my bedroom?”  


“Yes? What about it?” Arianna asked.  


“It’s just that…this is probably gonna sound crazy…to you,” Rapunzel fumbled, fiddling with the short ends of her hair. “But back…I mean…you know, _there_ , I…well I really liked to paint. A lot, and we…I mean, _I_ …didn’t really have paper. Or canvas. So moth- I mean…”  


Rapunzel stopped, coloring furiously at what she’d almost said. A dark expression crossed Arianna’s face, one Rapunzel couldn’t quite read. 

“Go on,” Arianna said after a beat. Rapunzel pressed a hand to her cheek, turning slightly to hide her blush. Why had she just said that? She’d vowed _never_ to say that!   


“Um…w-well anyways I would sometimes paint on the walls and I was wondering if I could do that in my room,” Rapunzel said in one breath, still hiding her face from Arianna’s gaze. She couldn’t bear to think what her _real_ mother must be thinking right now. This was probably hopeless anyway. Princesses didn’t paint on walls, what was she thinking? And now she’d messed it up and Arianna was going to get angry, Rapunzel just _knew_ it…even Pascal shrank back a little, though there was no hair to hide in. 

She was shocked, then, when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Rapunzel’s head snapped up, locking eyes with a familiar shade of green. Arianna was smiling kindly at her, as though nothing strange had happened at all. Rapunzel, if anything, was even _more_ embarrassed. She let her hand drop, wrapping it around her arm. 

“I think that’s a lovely idea, Rapunzel. I didn’t know you liked to paint,” Arianna said, and there was only a brief flicker of pain in her voice. Rapunzel, shocked to find she wasn’t in any trouble, gave a slight smile of relief.  


“Y-yeah…since I was little,” she said. “I just thought it might…make it feel more like home.”   


Arianna grinned at that word, the hand at Rapunzel’s shoulder squeezing just slightly. “I think I know just the thing,” she said. “Can you wait in your bedroom for me?” Rapunzel nodded, more confused than ever. Arianna gave Rapunzel one last bright smile, and sped off to places unknown. Rapunzel glanced at Pascal.

“Do you think that went well?”   


* * *

It wasn’t much later that Arianna came bounding through the doors, a load of paint brushes in her arms. Behind her was one of the guards, Pete Rapunzel thought his name was, pushing a large cart with buckets of paint. They were different than the paints Rapunzel had left behind, but her heart still lifted at the sight of it. There were more colors here than she’d ever had before!

“You can go,” Arianna said to Pete, who nodded and shut the door behind him. Rapunzel, feeling more excited than she had in weeks, pressed her hands together and bit back a squeal.

“You did all this?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from a perfect shade of purple to look up at the Queen. Arianna was grinning from ear to ear, and Rapunzel didn’t quite understand why.   


“Do you like it?” Arianna asked, to which Rapunzel responded in earnest.  


“I _love_ it! And I can really paint…everywhere?” she gestured around the room, which now looked less like a sterile living room and more like a blank canvas. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much _space_.   


“If that’s what makes you happy, then you can paint wherever you want,” Arianna said. “Your father won’t mind. We want you to feel at home here, Rapunzel.” Rapunzel turned back to Arianna, a small smile on her face.   


“Thank you, Moth-” she fumbled again, biting her lip. “Um…thank you.” 

Arianna stood still for a moment. Rapunzel looked down, hugging her arms to her chest. Why was this so hard? _Mother._ Just say Mother! She’d said it so many times before, but…  


“What about ‘Mom?’“  


That was the last thing Rapunzel had expected to hear.

“Huh?”   


“You called her ‘Mother,’” Arianna said evenly, a very calm expression on her face- almost too calm. Rapunzel winced, mumbling out a quick “ _sorry”_ before being interrupted again.

“You don’t need to be so formal with me,” Arianna said, stepping over to Rapunzel’s side. Rapunzel flushed again, biting her lip hard. Inside, she was so relieved she felt like crying- she didn’t have to say it after all! She looked up, and Arianna was so _different_. She just knew things without Rapunzel having to tell her, and she could sense that now- Arianna just _knew._ She knew how she felt. Rapunzel’s lower lip trembled. 

“Mom,” she managed to say, and Arianna’s face split into a grin so wide Rapunzel thought it would break. “I like that.”   


“Me too.”  


Then, without much warning, Arianna enveloped Rapunzel into a hug so tight she thought _she_ would break. But she didn’t- and on second thought, break was the wrong word. 

This wasn’t breaking. This was healing. 


End file.
